Chapter 12- A Dark Dream and The Final Stone

In a burst of red light, Hermione found herself in a very dark area. Squinting her eyes and looking around, she realized that it was an abandoned bar. However, it wasn't abandoned at this time. Dark, hooded men were gathered around whispering excitedly. Before them was none other than Lord Voldemort: cold pale complexion; a long wand in his long bony fingers; he wore a sly and menacing look, sneering a bit as though expecting something really wonderful. It seemed as though none of them had noticed Hermione's abrupt entrance as they continued to talk in hushed voices.

"Silence, now," rasped Voldemort in a bone-chilling voice. He raised a long pale hand and everyone became dead silent. "We have a visitor," he said in his most sinister rasp.

Someone came in slowly that Hermione could not see. From the sound of the feet dragging on the floor, the low moaning, and the heavy breathing, the person was in a lot of pain. Although this would be pretty normal to the Death Eaters, Hermione was frozen in terror. She was terrified by the thought of how they had beaten and tortured this person. She hung on to the wall, touching it with her hand, as though this would help her get a grasp of the situation. She wanted to leave, to be free of the horror that was sure to come. Yet, she also wanted to stay. She wished dearly to know who the poor person was; her was overcome with sheer curiosity on what they were about to do.

"Speak," Voldemort commanded coldly. "Tell me what you know of this foolish rebellion."
Hermione gasped. Somebody knew something about the rebels' underground movement. Somebody was telling Voldemort all their secrets and will reveal to him their plan. She tried to move closer to get a better look of this spy but found herself unable to do so. She was standing on a small sphere of red light that she could not step out of. She cursed, under her breath, the power of the God Beast: it was very unfair. Yet she looked on as the dragging of the man's foot stopped.

The man breathed in deeply. The sucking sound that came from the breathing was hoarse with a high-pitched reverberation. It was sickening and horrible to hear the person struggle to take a wisp of air. Then the person spoke, in a voice that sounded like two throats mixed together in a blender and popped inside the mouth, "They've collected six of seven stones," its voice echoed in the silenced chamber, "one more and a being shall be summoned to destroy the Dark Lord."

There was an obvious tension in the air as those words traveled across the room like an immobilizing spell. A wave of whispers started to pick up again and everyone was buried in intense discussion. Hermione tried hard to hear their discussion but she could not. She was shocked that someone had known and disclosed their secret information. Her thoughts very quickly turned to Malfoy. That sinister git really must have done something! He was obviously undercover for Voldemort, pretending to be a good guy when he was evidently not. Why did Dumbledore trust him? Why of all the people would he trust that slimy, arrogant prat Malfoy? Yet why indeed? Surely Dumbledore had a reason for trusting him. It was very hard for Hermione to accept this but she decided to listen on and find out who it really was.

"This is impossible!" Voldemort exclaimed with an evident panic in his voice. "The prophecy said that only Harry Potter has the power to destroy me!" There was a moment of terrified silence. Then, "Crucio!" Voldemort yelled in anger. "Tell me the truth! Where is this seventh jewel and where is the rebel hideout?"

The spy yelled in agony and Hermione remembered the horrible effects of the cruciatus curse. She imagined her own bones feel like they were dipped in the hottest flame and her muscles squeezed by an incredible force. It was horrible to even imagine. The scream of extreme pain was overwhelming but it helped Hermione to hear his voice better: it sounded strangely familiar, like a friend's that she talked to often in the day. Yet the voice, as a whole, was indistinguishable. The chorus of two speakers made it impossible to identify who it was. The darkness only made it worse.

"They…." The person began between gasps for air and periodic yells of pain. "Underground…. map…" Hermione felt a shiver of terror run down her spine. Map? What map? Who is this guy? She felt the rush of adrenaline in her hands, cold and shaking. She had to get out of there. She had to go and find that seventh jewel before the Death Eaters do. Suddenly, the whole ordeal became a race.

Hermione heard paper crumpling and was sure that it was Voldemort picking up a map from the ground. Then suddenly, she was being dragged away- back into the red light. It was as sudden as the speed of the bright red sparks she was covered by. The light enveloped her, yet again. It soothed her nerves, her tension. Like a baby, she cuddled herself inside the warm blanket of red.

"Priestess…" Suzaku's voice called out from a distance. It was that usual calming, soothing, warming, and gentle voice. He appeared in front of Hermione looking as divine as ever but there was a slight hint of worry on his face. He gave Hermione a look of comfort but spoke with an understandable urgency in his voice, "You must find me before the darkness shrouds that little light. Go alone. Find me. You must rise and be as quick as lightning. Go now."

"Yes!" Hermione replied but she found herself sitting up in her bed. She looked around and realized that it was probably still dawn. She turned to her side and saw her beloved Ron snoring peacefully. She got out of the bed feeling the coldness of pre-sunrise. She covered Ron with the blanket as he stirred in his sleep. She felt a slight urge to wake him up but she knew that it was unwise to do so.

She got dressed, putting on a blood red dress she found buried underneath a pile of other clothing. She took all her time for she knew that these were the last moments of her life. She absorbed the calm view of the dim room. It was moldy and damp in some areas but it was still warm and cozy: she had spent five incredible years of her life hidden in this very unsightly abode. She looked down at herself: if only she had been pregnant sooner. It was the worst of pain to know that somehow she was not just sacrificing herself, but someone else too. She shook off this feeling and headed on.

The meeting room was just as dark and just as memorable. Hermione had to very slowly close the door or else the bang would echo loudly inside. She examined the damp stony walls that housed them for the longest time. She remembered how well they had abused the silencing charm cast upon it only a few months ago. She felt this heavy weight building up inside her as she felt the wooden desks and the cushioned chairs.

While looking down at the cold stone floor filled with the unsightly murky water, she noticed the shining golden right with the most brilliant-looking ruby encrusted on top. The weight in her chest just grew twice as heavy as she remembered how sincere he had been. She remembered his loving, passionate words as he confidently vowed that he would love her forever. It made Hermione feel very depressed. It felt as though, at this point, everything was pointless; all of it was worthless, many would become so sad. Yet she left.

She strode across the wet winding tunnel wondering if any of them would have ever gone through with the plan if they knew its darkest secret. She came out into a very dark dawn, surely very grim as she was for her sacrifice. She tried to fill herself with pride by thinking of how honorable her doing would be: everyone's efforts would not have been in vain; Harry will get his revenge; he will come back to them. No- he would come back to a world without Hermione. He would return with only a memory of her deed left.

Hermione's mind was suddenly filled with Cho's words, her constant pleading to stop her aching heart. It was so depressing to recall: the love of Ron, the oblivious volunteers, had she tricked them all? Were they all lifted up so high into the state of joy just for them to fall back down twice as far? Was this really fair? They had sacrificed so much for what they thought would be a happy ending. Was this really right?

"No…" Hermione whispered to herself feeling the weight of the whole world upon her. Her steps were slow and painful. Her breathing was heavy and hard. And her heart, the object from which the soul speaks to the mind, felt as though it was about to fall off like a rotten apple from a tree. "I must go on." It was hard for her to convince herself to move through the thick of a large forest area. She feared nothing, but she felt as though she was dragging her heart along a mile-long string: it yearned to come back. However, the will still triumphed.

It took her an extremely short amount of time to cut across the forest for there was a small spot of light that guided her way. She reached the edge feeling the sting of sunrise in her eyes. She looked ahead: a vast ocean of sand lay before her; at the end was a small patch of houses- an oasis, no doubt. A thought entered Hermione's mind that told her that these areas could not possibly be real: where in England, even if you went north, south, east, west, up or down, would you find a large dessert with a small oasis at the very end? This was obviously the test of the God-Beast. However, it seemed like she was battling more her will than the elements. Constantly, she was bugged by pangs and flashbacks, her thoughts wandered on how she not told the whole truth; how she had ignored Cho's pleas; how she had totally forsaken Ron; how she is also taking another life with her.

She walked on and on; the dessert seemed to stretch for miles. More and more so she was filled with an urge to go back. Yet, she moved on. Thirst was starting to trickle its way up her throat. Her skin was starting to become extremely dry. The sand that was lifted up by the winds scratched her and blurred her vision. However, these did not matter, the heaviness of her heart as she dragged her foot on the sand was a million times more of a burden than the scorching sun.

The oasis had not seemed so far away when she had only begun, but now it felt as unreachable as the invisible stars in the sky. The sun looked at Hermione with a blazing fury; its piercing gaze could almost burn through her skin. With a blessing from somewhere she had miraculously reached the shade of one of the trees. She drank the cool water that welled in between. As she was doing so, she realized that she had suddenly arrived in the middle of a very large lake. On one end of it was the same forest she had entered. On the other end was a castle in the likes of ones that one would only hear of in fairy tales.

Unconsciously, or out of grief, Hermione stepped towards the forest area. But before she could continue to move along that direction, she became impeded by two very small hands that belonged to a little boy who spoke in a very childish but dignified voice, "Priestess, please! You must not falter now."

Hermione examined the boy carefully. He was very short, wearing a green robe with a white sash. His face looked far beyond his years; it was amazing: he looked as though he carried the wisdom of centuries. His face was a little upset and urgent. Hermione gave him a quizzical look. He was a complete stranger that just popped out of nowhere. Was he to be trusted?
As though to answer Hermione's thoughts, the boy straightened himself and said, "I am Chiriko- last of the celestial warriors." Hermione blinked twice, comprehension traveling to her brain. Chiriko's face became contorted again, "Please! Don't leave now!"

Hermione looked away, feeling a tear sliding down her cheek. It really was not the time to give up. However, she was overcome with grief. She can no longer hide from the truth, that she had kept the sacrifices she was about to make secret. It all somehow welled up on her at the very last minute. It made her so disappointed at how, in the end, she would have given up anyway. "I can't do this anymore. It's taken so much out of me. I don't want them to be sad just because of me."

"But Priestess!" Chiriko screamed in a persistent voice. "This is all the more reason for you to go and finish this. You have given up too much to give up now! Besides, either way the process would be painful. At least, with this, you die knowing that your wishes have come true!"

"And will Harry come back?" Hermione asked wistfully.

"No…" Chiriko looked down. His answer rang inside Hermione's head like the trumpets of defeat.

"Then I won't go." Hermione moved toward the forest again. Chiriko stood behind her with a frustrated look.

"This is all you can do?" Chiriko blurted out suddenly after Hermione had walked a few paces." Think of your family and friends!"

Hermione whirled around angrily. She did not like the little boy's accusations on her. She was thinking about those closest to her heart. "I am thinking about them!" She screamed back indignantly.

"Oh yeah! Sure!" Chiriko quipped sarcastically while his teardrops fell like rain on the smooth lake's surface. "Go back to them so they can wait endlessly for the scythe of death. Leave them going nearly insane just so you can be close to them again! And what about Harry? You want him to come back here so he will have to relive the curse of life?" He stomped his foot on the water and it ripple furiously. "What kind of person are you?"
Hermione found herself opening her mouth but no words had come out. Chiriko was right. She had sacrificed so much for this cause; if she gave up now, it would have all been wasted. And she could not just live, knowing that she could have vanquished Voldemort and she did not. "You're right," she agreed, "I must go." Hermione was filled with a renewed determination as she began to make her way to the old castle. Chiriko vanished with a smile on his face. The only thing that could stop Hermione now was if someone would tell her to.

She strode confidently across the lake. She did not look down, and was not terrified that she could sink down to the bottom at any point. She was filled with a surge of strength. Whatever feelings about going back were gone. All that remained was the hope that Voldemort would finally be gone. Although a flicker of sadness still remained, she would only halt if someone would come behind her begging for her to stop.

She moved on. She was at the entrance to the castle. She examined it carefully, taking note on how oddly well preserved the aged walls were. She walked inside hearing each echo of her footsteps as she crossed the hall. A door stood not far from where the entrance was. It was glowing bright red. Hermione walked towards it. Somehow, there was no sign of traps, or puzzles, or monsters anywhere. It felt a little strange but Hermione figured that it could be because she had been through many trials: this was a break.

She reached the door with little effort and it opened automatically as though expecting her, inside was a very small chamber lit with small red flames. Huge stone pillars stood around a golden centerpiece. In the shadows, Hermione could feel an intense feeling of foreboding: if ever there were a monster that would appear, it would come from there.

"Call forth the celestial warriors," said a voice inside Hermione's head.

"Tamahome, Hotohori, Nuriko, Tasuki, Mitsukake, Chichiri," Hermione enumerated. Each time she said a name; a ghostly figure would appear carrying the jewels that they had collected. Everyone appeared: from the blue-eyed, blue-haired Tamahome to the scar faced Chichiri. They all wore smiling faces, encouraging Hermione to go on.

"Now, take the final stone and call the final warrior," said the voice.

Hermione inched forward. IF there was a time that somebody would stop her, it was now. She looked at the holder of the final stone- a reed pipe. It bobbed up and down as though it was floating in water. She reached out for it: the last thing she would ever touch.

"Hermione, wait!" A voice screamed from behind Hermione. The voice was so comforting and familiar. The voice was Ron's.

"Ron." Hermione whispered to herself weakly and turned around. There he was, looking bright red in the face and panting. He ran over to her hastily. Up close, Hermione could see that Ron was crying.

"I know everything," gasped Ron, "Cho told me. Please…" Ron's voice was starting to stutter and he began to weep some more. Seconds later he was hugging Hermione tightly; she felt bad as she felt him shiver. "I… I know what you're trying to do… but please…" Another fresh burst of tears. "Don't do it. I love you Hermione! Please don't do this…"

Hermione felt a tear sneaking out from her eye. She wanted to deny all of it. She wanted to pretend like nothing had happened. She felt terrible that she had lied; she had lied to Ron! It was a terrible feeling that- this time- she could no longer escape. It was different with Cho: she could cloak herself in a shroud from reality. But when it was Ron, the one who she loved and cherished the most, she froze. "I'm sorry," she cried weakly.

The celestial warriors looked on out the heart-wrenching scene with mixed faces. Some of them looked like they felt sorry for Hermione and watched on teary-eyed and sobbing. Others watched with indignant and disbelieving faces. One of them, a tall blue-haired man, who with his extremely long hair looked like a very attractive woman, stepped out of the circle of onlookers and spoke, "But Priestess you mustn't give up now. Just take the stone and make your wish. Think of what could happen if you didn't."

It looked as though Hermione was going to clobber him with a fury but she only looked down and spoke softly, " I can't leave them. I just can't." She looked around the room at the astonished ghosts. Then at a more stentorian voice she said, "I can't sacrifice myself for another. I know that it is something valorous and honorable but," she glanced at Ron in an infinitesimal pause, "somehow, right now, it isn't what my purpose is. People care for me and I care for them. It was hard weighing out the consequences of each choice but now I know which one is right. My friends and family will not be distraught by one more death."

There was a long and silent pause that was broken by a childish voice that said, "And how will you rid the world of the darkness, priestess? We want to help you." Chiriko, the boy who just spoke, floated down looking very depressed.

"I'm sorry, guys. I'm sorry for putting everyone through this. But we will have to find another way." Hermione sighed feeling a heavy weight being lifted from her. The celestial warriors disappeared shaking their heads disappointedly and the stones and bejeweled items clattered down the ground.

They started to walk away, Hermione and Ron, feeling rather relieved. They kissed each other and hugged. Ron caressed Hermione's hair softly as he thought about the startling revelation he experienced in the morning: he woke up to a crying Cho that revealed to him everything. She was distraught; she couldn't take it anymore. There was no time to become furious- Hermione was missing. He hastily dressed up and hurried off to find her. Dean helpfully told him that the map of the jewels was in the table. He hurried off feeling extremely worried and confused. The news was so sudden and he could not think.

They approached the red double doors with a skip in their step. Finally, there were no more secrets, no more lies… no more exits? The red door had closed in their face with a loud bang. Hermione was confused: they had not taken the gem and weren't activating the trials. Why was this happening? A loud and slow affected clapping answered her. They both whirled around.

A hooded man stepped out of the shadow walking slowly with grandeur and clapping monotonously. "You're not going anywhere, thespians," the man rasped. "You might have provided a little bit of dramatic amusement for me but…" he took out his hood and showed a very pale skin with a strange nose and red eyes. "I just can't let the leaders of an extremely annoying uprising get away, can I?"

"Voldemort!" Ron exclaimed with his nostrils flaring. He stepped in front of Hermione and pulled out his wand.

Voldemort laughed his usual cold high laugh. "Oh, children. You are so foolish."

Ron quickly fired a spell at Voldemort. The white light shot at the Dark Lord at an amazing speed. However, it hit a blob-like shield that surrounded Voldemort and it rebounded off and fizzled. Voldemort laughed again, this time more maniacally.